Shouta hugs his knees tightly to his chest, grounding himself with the press of his own body and the biting cold of the metal cage floor. His body shivers, but he is content. These sensations are real. Very few things have felt real since they replaced his eyes with someone else's. Or something. How long has it been, now..? Is there any use wondering how long I've been here? It's not as if I'm on a timer. Nothing will happen if I answer that question.

He's almost managed to drift back into the haze of not-quite-sleep when he hears a crash and a screech from the room across the hall. Distantly intrigued, he lifts his head and listens.